The Filled Abyss
by Star Vortex
Summary: James is just your average gang leader. Lives by the code 'every man for himself', and is fine with it. But when he meets Nikita, his world is turned inside out, disemboweled, and ribbed apart. Extended summary inside.
1. Prolouge

Okay, these are the blueprints for a story that I am going to write and hopefully publish. So please please **please** Rate and Review!

Summary:

James is an average Mafia leader. He's done his fair share of murder, crime, and ringleading. Through years and years of experience, his gang has finally made it to the top. Everyone knows his name, hates him, follows him, or admires him. He has everything her could ever want: all the food he wants, all the women he wants, and all the action he wants. But when a new gang moves into town with a mysterious leader called Nikita, he immediately takes offense. No major gangs have ever sprung up since James' rise to power. Yet no matter how much he tries to wipe the newcomers out, they always get themselves out of his grasp. They steal his food, steal his money, and steal his fame. James becomes more and more frustrated- until he comes to an unexpected one-on-one encounter with the new gang's mysterious Nikita.

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_Dark hair framed her tanned face. Amber eyes focused on the light filtering through the green canopy. Beside the teenage girl, a similarly black-haired boy looked at her with pleading eyes._

"_Don't do it," He whispered, though he had said this over and over in vain._

"_I don't have a choice," She replied, her voice strained. "They don't even know we exist here. Soon, this place will be destroyed."_

_It was unbelievable that They would be heartless as to destroy a place like this. The girl looked around and the glade shining in the moonlight. The trees were white, and the lake sparkled. A white mist hung in the air, giving the place an unearthly aura._

"_What will you do after? Where will you go?"_

"_I don't know, but I know that I will get as far as possible before They make contact."_

"_You're going to your own funeral."_

"_I wouldn't do it if I had another choice. This is our last Haven, and it's going to be destroyed in less that one moon's time."_

"_We could find away around this. We could talk to Them."_

"_They do not want to talk. That was what the old man tried to do, and it ended up being his last act."_

"_You need to leave," The girl said, cutting off a continuation that the boy was about to say. "You cannot stand up to them, and neither can I, at least not in the conditions that we are in now."_

"_But… the glade… our friends…"_

"_We cannot do anything to help anyone but ourselves. Most of our friends have already gotten to safety, and it is high time that we do too."_

"_Will anything ever be the same? How can something—"_

"_Hush, Little Brother. For the immediate future, there is nothing but darkness. But… maybe…"_

"_What?"_

"_Maybe, if we wait long enough, They will forget us. You know how bad Their memory is, fading with each generation. If they do forget, then we may be able to live among Them."_

"_But how could someone like you and me survive in Their tainted air?"_

"_I know only that whatever happens, our kind will adapt. And I can feel something coming, something greater that anything our ancestors ever experienced."_

"_What do you think it is?"_

"_I think… well, I think that our kind will have a purpose again."_

"_A purpose!? But that hasn't occurred for more than a millennia! Only once in our entire history has anything like that happened!"_

"_I trust my instincts."_

"_Do you have any idea what the purpose might be?"_

"_I have a vague idea, but, as I said, it is still very vague."_

_Both the teenagers' heads suddenly snapped to the right. In the distance, shouts and chants rang from about five miles away. Quick as lightning, the two scrambled up a couple of trees. The girl appeared at the top of hers a heartbeat before her brother appeared from the silver-green leaves. Far in the distance, a hazy orange glow shone on the darkness. The girl looked at her sibling._

"_You must go. They are nearly here."_

"_Sister, I can fight. The Haven must be protected." _

"_No more lives need to be lost over this. Our race can survive without a Haven, and we will need to after tonight."_

"_But—"_

"_No. We both need to run."_

"_Whatever you say."_

"_Then come."_

_They both descended from their trees with single leaps, bending their knees to absorb impact as they hit the ground. They landed without a sound. They sprinted away, their deerskin moccasin-covered feet making no noise on the pine-needled forest floor. In a few seconds, the Glade was lost behind them, disappearing from their eyes forever. After a few minutes, the girl suddenly hissed and jerked to a stop. She put her hand out onto her brother's chest and stopped him too._

"_What is it?" The boy asked worriedly._

"_Hunters!"_

_They appeared like specters from between the misty trees. Each one was clad in armor, and held a drawn and knocked iron bow in his grip. It was roughly two against thirteen. The girl thought that hunters such as these should know that her kind did not react to iron, advantageously or otherwise, and then realized that each had the strength to wield and use such a weapon._ Ah, of course,_ the girl thought,_ an iron bow would shoot twice as hard and fast as a regular wooden bow.

_Yet another disadvantage for her and her brother. The two children shifted until they were back-to-back, and the girl drew her two weapons*, while her brother drew his**. The girl's lips curled over her teeth, and a quiet snarl escaped from the back of her throat. The first arrow whizzed straight towards her face for a fatal shot, but her steel claws flashed up and deflected it. She heard a whistle as an arrow flew towards her brother, then the clang of metal against metal as his knives cut it in half. Then the fight began._

_All thirteen of the hunters rushed in at them at once, bearing iron swords and iron daggers. The girl lost track of the boy, dodging black swords and sending her steel claws to deliver death. When four lay dead at her feet, she whipped around at the sound of her brother's terrified wail. The hunters had him pinned, and not even his violent struggling could loosen their grip. A sword flashed towards his neck. His silver blood spurted from the wound. He was dead, killed without a sound. The girl saw red.

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_

_The girl cracked her eyes open. She had been wakened by the sounds of incoherent chanting and yelling. She could see the angry orange glow of fire from between the trees. The hunters all lay dead around her, and the girl had been sleeping in the arms of her dead brother. Her Tiger Claws were a few feet away, painstakingly place parallel with both of her brother's trench knives. The mob was getting closer. They must have already destroyed the Haven Glade. The girl got up, and nearly fell back down. Her rage had taken all the energy out of her, and she was now running on absorbed starlight. She stooped down and scooped up all four of hers and her brother's weapons. She leaned against the closest tree, and a little bit of tan returned to her white face. She turned and looked back and the scene on the blood-spattered ground. Her brother was gone. She felt the comprehension coming, but she pushed it away. There would be time to grieve later, but she needed to get away as fast as possible. The girl could see a dark line roughly a hundred yards away, but the mist was heavy enough that it would conceal her. With a mind and body numb from shock, the girl turned and vanished._

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* To see her weapon, go to .com and enter 'tiger claws' into the search criteria. The picture is on the first row, and is the one with two pictures: one from a diagonal view, and one from a bird's view qith it mounted on a holder.

** Same with her brother's weapons, but enter 'trench knives' instead. It will be on the first row as well, and should be fairly easy to spot. It is on the first row, and is simply two trench knives set on a white background. There may be other pictures of people holding trench knives, but they all look virtually the same._  
_


	2. Usual

James ran the red light without a second thought, as usual. Cars squealed as they skidded to avoid him. He dodged the mayhem with grace and ease, weaving through shiny colored metal on his motorcycle like usual. He got safely to the other side and slipped right into the traffic as if nothing had happened.

The motorcycle he rode was black-bodied, covered in plating that made it streamlined. Silver flames twisted their way over it, all in just the right places, all in just the right amount. James had recently stolen it, and he loved it. His particular module was the new Elition Nova Vortex, and one of the first out. With a speed capacity of 350 MPH, a Plexiglas–guarded dashboard that held a speedometer, a gas remainder, a GPS, and more complicated functions yet to be figured out, James' motorcycle was the _best_.

James kicked up to 125, zooming past cars. Everything around him turned to a blur, as usual. Not that there was much there to blur in the first place. Right now, everything looked gray, as usual. The sky was gray, the buildings were gray, and people wore gray, the sparse trees were gray, and basically everything else was gray, aside from the occasional Subaru, just like usual. He knew where he was going, even without the GPS.

He slowed to 100, then 50, and then 30. Once he saw his destination come into sight, he slowed to a complete halt. A flashing blue and red sign projected the word ''BAR'' into the gray-ness, as uaual. James removed his helmet and put it on his motorcycle, flicking down the kickstand and leaning it against the curb like usual. He knew that it would be safe; no one would dare to steal _his_ motorcycle.

He walked through the double doors, and was met by the familiar sight. The carpet was red and gold, and was covered by tables, excepts in the corner and the far side. The corner had a fireplace, and was surrounded by crimson couches on which lounged mostly very rich women. On the far side of the room was the actual bar. It was a long counter, and was a regular bar, aside from the fact that it was actually clean. The side closest to James was bordered with evenly spaced stools, with 50% seating occupants. James took sure and confident steps towards the other side of the room like he owned the place. When he moved, all eyes turned to watch him. None with hate or fear (okay, well maybe a _little_ fear), but with admiration and adoration.

At the middle point of the room, James turned his eyes– eyes, not head –to the mirror on the wall. There, his reflection was the usual. His wavy black hair swirled around his head, with dark bangs falling over half of his face. He wore a grey shirt, covered with a black leather vest. His tanned arms were left bare, displaying hardened muscles. Though he wasn't beefy-muscled, he had the handsome kind of muscle, the king that showed that even though you worked out, working out wasn't your life.

He had slim black leather pants, a silver studded black belt, and black boots. All in all, he knew that if the average passerby saw him, they would try to get away as fast as possible from the dangerous person that was currently reflected in the mirror.

James walked to the bar.

"The usual."

The bartender nodded, and set to work. James leaned against the counter, just like usual. The higher-ranking women stood up and swaggered over to him, just like usual. And, just like usual, the bartender gave him an almost-too-late heads up before slinging the vodka across the counter. James caught it without hesitation or pause, just like usual. Once he had it, he went with the women to the couches, just like usual. He sat down in his usual spot, where her could watch the entire room. Here, like usual, he was king.

As soon as James had settled down, the whole bar returned to their original demeanor, be it flirting, drinking, or gambling. The women fawned over James, talking in oily voices about how terrible their lives had been recently, how terrible their food had been recently, how terrible their existences had been recently, and about how the only way they could find comfort was from being with James. James lost interest after the first few minutes, but his and the women's attention was grabbed when an intense bar fight broke out. The two idiot even pulled blades out, but both were too drunk to use them. After roughly two hours of swinging, missing, clashing, bumping, stepping on feet, and being trash-brains, they ran into each other and crashed into a table, then tumbled straight into the wall. They were doth knocked out before they hit the ground.

James started to clap. Without hesitation, the women around him started to clap too. A heartbeat later, the whole room burst into applause. After exactly thirty-four seconds, everyone stopped and returned to what they had been doing. Aside from the bartender, who ran to move the two unconscious men. He couldn't care less about them, but they took up space that could be used for a customer.

James sank back into the fawning and adorations of the women. They all were practically fighting each other to kiss the floor at his feet.

The rest of the night went on uneventful. No more bar fights broke out (everyone was very disappointed), there weren't heated games of poker or gin rummy, and James left the party with every one of the women's advances were cast off. James slipped out of the bar. As he got back on his black and silver motorcycle and put on his helmet, he thought dryly about how ridiculous women were. They were just tools, and were hardly ever good for anything. James turned his wheel south, to the warehouse district.

He never suspected that in less than half a week, his theory about women would be proven wrong. Twice.

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**Note:** so, that wraps up the second chapter. Some real excitement is planned for the next couple of chapters, and I'm working on them. Please please please tell me what you think!


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